“Unhand her! Now.”
Neona jolted at the sound of her mother’s voice.
“You’re surrounded.” Nima stood behind them in the woods, her sword drawn.
Neona looked around frantically. Winifred was to one side, Freya to the other, and both had arrows cocked and aimed at Zoltan. Lydia was downhill, between them and the burial mounds, her bow and arrow ready. At this short distance, none of them would miss.
Panic seized Neona. “No!”
Zoltan squeezed her shoulders. “Stay calm.”
“Release her and move away!” Nima yelled. When he lifted his hands and scooted back, she motioned to Lydia. “Kill him.”
“No!” Neona threw herself in front of him just as the arrow was released. Zoltan grabbed her and twisted, putting his back to Lydia.
His body stiffened as the arrow struck. He fell forward on top of Neona, a hissing sound escaping from his mouth. He grimaced, and for a flash of a second, fangs sprang out before he clamped his mouth shut.
Neona gasped. Had she really seen that? She searched his face but only saw pain in his eyes.
He grunted with more pain as Freddie and Freya yanked him to his feet. Freddie tied his wrists together while Freya looped a rope around his neck. They pulled him back into the moonlit clearing, closer to the burial mounds.
Neona gasped at the sight of the arrow protruding from his back and the dark stain of blood spreading down his jacket. Lydia cocked another arrow, aimed at his chest. Nima walked toward him, her sword pointed at him.
Neona scrambled to her feet. She had to stop them somehow. But did he really have fangs? Was he some kind of monster?
“How do you do? I am Zoltan—”
“Did I say you could talk?” Nima poked him with her sword.
“Don’t hurt him!” Neona ran toward them. Maybe she’d imagined the fangs. It had happened so fast. And it was dark.
Nima scoffed. “Have you lost your senses? This man has seen our valley. He will die tonight.”
Chapter Thirteen
Zoltan gritted his teeth as the rope bit into his neck. They were leading him about like a damned dog on a leash. The arrow in his back stung like hell. Fortunately, the queen’s jab at him with her sword had missed the bags of blood stashed in his jacket. The stab had barely broken his skin, so it wasn’t bleeding nearly as profusely as the wound on his back was.
Still, the scent of so much blood ignited his vampire senses, and it took every ounce of his control not to give in to the rampant power that sizzled through his veins. Given free rein, his undead instincts would have him teleport free, steal the queen’s sword, and decapitate everyone at vampire speed. They could all be dead in a matter of seconds. Well, everyone but Neona. Over the centuries, he had acquired excellent control.
With a low growl, he acknowledged that beheading Neona’s mother and friends was not a likely way to earn her trust. He needed to convince these women he was their ally, so he would have to play nice. No glowing eyes and fangs.
With all the pain he was enduring, he had to wonder if he was a fool. He could have teleported away the instant the arrow was shot. But Neona had leaped in front of him, and his immediate reaction had been to save her. He’d been so shocked that he’d acted without thinking. In almost eight hundred years, he couldn’t recall anyone ever trying to save him. He’d always done the rescuing, the protecting.
But Neona had tried to save him. Did that mean she loved him?
He glanced at her as they came to a stop by the fire pit in the center of their small village. Her love might be short-lived. If given another chance to save him, he wasn’t sure she would. He’d seen the stunned look of horror flit across her face when his fangs had sprung out.
She doubted him now; he could feel it. There was a distant wariness to her stance, a reluctance to look him in the eye. She said nothing as one of the women looped his leash around a pole and reeled him in till he was only a foot away. He turned to survey their small village, but the arrow in his back knocked against the pole, inciting another burst of pain.
Was this where they planned to execute him? The irony struck him like a punch in the gut. His mother had been tied to a pole in the village square, and his father had done nothing to save her. Now, eight hundred years later, the same tragic scene was being replayed. Would Neona turn her back on him and let him die? Did she think he was an evil creature, just like Father had thought about Mother?
He glanced at Neona, but her head was turned away. She was refusing to look at him.
Just teleport home. Save yourself and forget about her. Tears filled his eyes. He’d thought she was the one. If he left now, he’d be admitting it was over, that she’d given up on him. He clenched his fists. Bear with it just a few more seconds. Give her a chance.
The three women with bows aimed their arrows at him, and the queen lifted her arm. Any second now she’d drop her arm and the arrows would fly. He looked at Neona one last time. Tears were running down her cheeks.
“Stop!” she screamed and ran to position herself in front of him.
His heart squeezed in his chest. She still believed in him.
“Move aside!” the queen shouted.
“Don’t kill him.” Neona fell to her knees and clasped her hands together as if in prayer. “I beg of you, grant us the mercy shown to Calliope. This man is my mate.”
Zoltan opened his mouth to agree, but he was interrupted by the queen.
“We cannot take mates! Even Calliope’s mate deserted her.”
“But we have Freddie and Freya because of him.” Neona motioned to two of the women with cocked bows. “I could give us more daughters. We need more women, you know that.”
One of the women lowered her bow. “That is true. What is the harm in keeping him alive till he fathers a child?”
“I agree with Freddie.” A second woman lowered her bow. “He could live at our father’s cabin.”
That had to be Freya, Zoltan thought. She was almost identical to her sister, Winifred. The only difference was the golden tint to Winifred’s brown eyes, whereas Freya’s eyes were hazel green.
“Too dangerous,” the third female bowman said. “He could escape and tell others about us.”
The queen nodded. “Lydia is right. We cannot allow him to leave this valley alive.”
“I’ll keep him in my house.” Neona rose to her feet. “Please. I want a daughter so badly.” She glanced back at Zoltan, avoiding eye contact. “This man is strong and fair of face. I believe he could give me an exceptional daughter.”
“He does seem strong,” Winifred said. “He must be in pain, but he hasn’t even moaned.”
“He must be fleet of foot, too,” Freya added. “He managed to sneak past Tasha.”
The queen scowled at him. “How did you get past our guard?”
“I come in peace—”
“Men are never peaceful,” Nima hissed, then looked at her daughter. “You see how he avoids telling us the truth. He cannot be trusted. He’s corrupting you, making you forget your sacred duty.”
“No!” Neona shook her head. “It is part of our duty to produce daughters for the future. This man can give me one.”
Zoltan winced inwardly. Was this her strategy for keeping him alive, or was it how she truly felt? Was he nothing more than a sperm donor?
The queen gave him a disgusted look. “He will bring you nothing but misery. Lydia, bring Tashi here. I want to know how this man sneaked past your daughter.”
Lydia turned pale. “Yes, your majesty.” She strode from the village.
“Winifred, rip the arrow out of him,” the queen ordered. “Let’s see if he’s as strong as you think.”
“Yes, your majesty.” Winifred handed her bow and arrow to her sister, then circled behind him.
With a grimace, Neona looked away. Zoltan wasn’t sure how she felt. She was definitely trying to keep him alive, but at the same time, she was refusing to make eye contact with him.
He felt Winifred planting her hand firmly on his back and he gritted his teeth, preparing himself. Any second now. He closed his eyes so no one would see them glow.
A blast of searing pain exploded across his back. He gasped but managed not to moan or reveal his fangs.
“It’s out,” Winifred announced behind him. “He’s losing blood fast.”